) 


Relation  of  Sociology  to 
Psychology. 


The  creation  of  a  new  science  is  a  difficult  task.  Seldom 
does  a  happy  inspiration  turn  its  early  investigators  into  the 
right  paths.  Bad  terms,  confused  ideas,  misleading  analogies 
and  the  inferences  and  methods  of  other  sciences  constantly 
lead  them  astray.  Sociology  is  particularly  open  to  such 
inroads  of  foreign  ideas  and  terms.  To  some  it  is  a  physical 
science  and  these  describe  human  history  as  a  mode  of  dissi¬ 
pating  solar  energy.  To  the  believers  in  astrology  it  was  an 
astronomical  science  and  they  thought  that  human  events 
were  determined  by  the  course  of  the  planets.  To  those  who 
held  the  doctrine  of  the  association  of  ideas  it  was  a  chemi¬ 
cal  science.  They  thought  that  the  only  real  things  were 
ideas,  the  combining  and  blending  of  which  created  knowl¬ 
edge  and  belief.  To  those  who  hold  that  society  is  an 
organism  it  is  a  biologic  science  and  they  try  to  describe  it 
in  terms  of  cells,  nerves  and  ganglia.  And  now  Professor 
G'iddings  would  make  it  a  psychologic  science  and  finds  a 
social  mind,  a  social  will  and  a  social  memory  among  its 

[433] 


2  Annaes  of  the  American  Academy. 

phenomena.*  He  would  have  us  believe  that  the  social 
mind  perceives  and  reflects,  that  it  is  self-conscious  and  has 
the  other  attributes  of  individual  minds.  He  admits  that 
the  description  of  society  in  biologic  terms  is  a  mistake, 
but  I  am  unable  to  see  in  what  respect  his  psychologic 
terminology  is  an  improvement.  There  are  often  better 
terms  than  those  he  uses,  and  when  not,  better  words  could 
easily  be  found.  Social  memory  is  not  so  good  a  term  as  race 
knowledge,  nor  is  social  will  so  definite  as  social  control. 
Professor  Ross  has  set  a  good  example  by  coining  terms 
that  will  endure  because  so  appropriate. f  What  could  be 
more  expressive  than  “  social  ascendancy,”  ‘  ‘  social  control  ’  ’ 
and  ‘  ‘  social  influence.  ’  ’  They  fill  a  gap  in  sociologic  terminol¬ 
ogy  and  will  increase  the  definiteness  of  the  thought  of  any 
one  who  uses  them.  Sociologic  terms  must  be  developed  from 
those  in  use  in  social  life  just  as  economic  terms  have  been 
developed  from  economic  life.  Analogies  are  barren  and 
they  bring  up  trains  of  thought  that  mislead  the  user.  Even 
the  best  of  distinctions  lose  their  force  if  the  words  convey  a 
double  meaning  because  used  in  two  sciences.  Occasionally 
an  imported  word  holds  its  own  in  a  new  habitat,  but  such 
cases  are  so  rare  as  to  prove  the  rule  that  each  science  must 
make  its  own  terms  and  be  built  up  from  its  own  data. 

The  use  of  analogy  may  have  some  utility  in  what  may 
be  called  the  kindergarten  stage  of  a  science,  but  it  is  out 
of  place  in  advanced  instruction  or  in  books  intended  for 
mature  minds.  A  recent  scientific  book  has  for  one  of  its 
chapter  headings,  ‘  ‘  The  Brain  as  a  Central  Telephone  Sta¬ 
tion.”  I  can  imagine  how  some  youthful  student,  restricted 
to  the  physical  sciences,  can  by  this  illustration  get  some  aid 
in  breaking  out  of  the  ruts  in  which  his  thought  has  moved, 
but  it  seems  odd  to  me  that  any  one  should  seriously  pro¬ 
pose  such  an  illustration  to  the  general  public  as  a  means 
of  increasing  its  knowledge.  It  assumes  on  its  part  an 

*  “  Principles  of  Sociology.”  Book  i,  Cap.  ii. 

f  See  his  article  on  “  Social  Control,”  American  Journal  of  Sociology ,  March,  1896. 


.3-3 


The  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  3 

absolute  blank  in  all  that  relates  to  the  scientific  study  of 
mental  science.  What  more  can  be  said  in  favor  of  the  solar 
energy  theory  of  history,  the  chemical  theory  of  ideas,  or 
the  biologic  theory  of  sociology  ?  They  may  do  for  novices, 
who  are  startled  by  the  thought  that  human  society  has  laws, 
but  are  a  block  to  progress  as  soon  as  this  concept  is  acquired. 
Nor  is  the  theory  of  a  social  mind  much  in  advance.  The 
essence  of  this  doctrine  is  contained  in  Professor  Giddings’ 
statement  that  psychology  is  the  science  of  the  association 
of  ideas,  while  sociology  is  the  science  of  the  association  of 
minds.*  I  take  this  to  mean  that  the  fundamental  facts  of 
psychology  relate  to  the  chemistry  of  ideas  and  those  of 
sociology  to  the  blending  of  minds  into  a  higher  unity.  If 
this  be  true,  simple  or  unsociologic  psychology  has  to  do 
with  nothing  but  ideas,  while  advanced  or  sociologic  psy¬ 
chology  includes  all  other  forms  of  mental  activity.  Beings 
become  social  as  soon  as  mental  activity  becomes  complex. 
Sociology  is  thus  based  on  psychology,  and  society  needs  no 
outside  conditions  to  promote  its  growth. 

I  cannot  accept  this  double  psychology  because  I  do  not 
accept  the  distinction  on  which  it  is  based.  It  assumes  the 
truth  of  a  particular  theory  of  psychology  which  is  not 
above  question.  The  traditional  psychology  is  the  creation 
of  a  group  of  sceptical  idealists.  In  the  endeavor  to  get 
unity  and  simplicity,  they  have  thrown  out  all  the  complex 
forms  of  thought  that  do  not  fit  their  theory.  Nature, 
atoms  and  other  objects  have  been  eliminated  and  the  uni¬ 
verse  is  so  emaciated  that  its  only  content  is  a  single  series  of 
ideas.  If  these  sceptical  idealists  cannot  find  a  place  for  the 
objective  world  or  any  proof  of  the  existence  of  other  minds, 
still  less  can  they  find  a  basis  in  their  psychology  for  the 
social  relations  which  grow  up  between  men.  If  the  non- 
self  cannot  be  put  on  a  par  with  the  self,  society  loses  its 
reality.  This  mode  of  reasoning  admits  of  nothing  but  a 
crude  individualism  which  pictures  each  person  in  a  world 

*  Op.  cit.,  p.  25. 

[435] 


V 


} 


4  Annals  of  the  American  Academy. 

of  his  own  as  complete  and  independent  as  the  series  of 
ideas  which  makes  up  his  mind. 

A  reaction  from  these  notions  has  created  a  school  of 
transcendental  idealists  who  seek  to  gather  up  the  fragments 
thrown  out  by  the  sceptics  and  to  make  of  them  a  higher 
mind  conditioning  these  lower  minds  and  determining  their 
activity.  Professor  Giddings  uses  the  methods  of  this 
school  when  he  seeks  to  introduce  into  sociologic  literature 
a  social  mind  similar  to  the  higher  mind  of  the  transcenden- 
talists.  By  so  doing  he  joins  his  forces  with  theirs  and 
makes  his  success  depend  on  the  truth  of  their  doctrines. 
No  science  should,  however,  have  its  terms  and  ideas  so 
constructed  that  they  depend  on  a  particular  theory  in  a 
related  science. 

The  real  evil  lies  not  in  his  agreement  with  the  transcen- 
dentalists  but  in  his  acceptance  of  the  narrow  dogma  of  the 
sceptics  that  the  individual  mind  has  no  phenomena  but  the 
chemistry  of  its  ideas.  Such  a  psychology  must  be  discarded 
before  a  solid  basis  for  sociology  can  be  found.  When  a 
more  complex  concept  of  the  mind  is  worked  out  in  which 
other  elements  of  human  nature  are  on  equal  footing  with 
its  sensory  ideas,  there  will  be  no  need  of  such  hybrid  con¬ 
cepts  as  minds  above  minds  or  a  social  will  above  that  of 
individuals. 

The  emphasis  of  a  few  simple  distinctions  will  make  a 
resort  to  such  a  psychology  needless.  Psychic  progress  may 
be  either  sensory  or  motor.  Progress  in  the  motor  powers 
increases  psychic  control.  In  low  forms  of  life  each  motor 
centre  acts  for  itself  and  thus  prevents  the  co-ordination  of 
movements  necessary  for  quick  effective  adjustment  to  the 
environment.  Gradually  these  centres  are  subordinated  to 
some  one  centre  through  which  psychic  control  is  exercised. 
The  organism  can  then  affect  complicated  adjustments  and 
increase  its  power  to  sustain  life  or  to  avoid  pain. 

Progress  on  the  sensory  side  of  the  mind  gives  clearer  ideas 
of  the  environment.  The  sensory  powers  should  indicate 

[436] 


The  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  5 

the  presence  of  any  object  and  the  qualities  of  which  it  is 
made  up.  The  perception  of  any  of  these  qualities  should, 
through  the  association  of  ideas,  bring  up  all  the  ideas  the 
object  usually  excites.  These  ideas  become  clear  and  num¬ 
erous  by  the  analysis  of  objects  into  their  elements  and  by 
the  associations  that  grow  up  between  these  ideas.  Trains 
of  thoughts  are  ideas  so  bound  together  that  each  idea 
brings  up  the  next.  Long  series  of  ideas  are  thus  formed, 
the  perception  of  any  one  of  which  starts  a  train  of  thought 
bringing  up  the  whole  series.  Sensory  activity  starts  other 
forms  of  sensory  activity.  It  thus  tends  to  perpetuate  itself 
and  to  check  motor  activity.  Circles  of  ideas  are  created, 
differentiation  after  differentiation  is  made,  but  the  ideas 
perceived  are  so  loosely  connected  with  the  motor  side  of 
the  mind  that  they  do  not  lead  to  activity. 

Ideas  of  this  kind  can  properly  be  called  sensorial  because 
the  activity  they  excite  is  confined  to  the  sensorium.  They 
lead  to  no  movements  and  cause  no  adjustments  to  be  made 
between  the  man  and  his  environment.  A  growth  of  sen¬ 
sorial  ideas  is  the  chief  result  of  a  purely  sensory  develop¬ 
ment.  Such  ideas,  instead  of  making  men  more  social, 
reduce  the  tendency  to  be  social  by  weakening  the  connection 
between  ideas  and  the  motor  activity  which  should  follow 
their  perception. 

It  is  not  then  the  psychic  progress  of  men  that  makes 
them  social.  Their  motor  development  belongs  to  an  earlier 
period  and  their  sensory  development  by  itself  weakens  the 
social  tendencies.  From  a  psychic  standpoint,  social  ideas 
are  not  higher  ideas,  but  ideas  due  to  a  distorted  develop¬ 
ment  of  the  sensory  powers.  Society  is  made,  not  by  any 
psychic  or  physical  necessity,  but  by  certain  complex  aggre¬ 
gates  of  psychic  and  physical  phenomena.  The  formation 
of  these  aggregates  and  their  influence  on  social  phenomena 
can  be  explained  only  by  a  study  of  the  environment.  Al¬ 
though  the  environment  creates  the  conditions  which 
determines  both  the  sensory  and  motor  activity,  yet  the 

[437] 


6 


Annals  of  the  American  Academy. 


environment  of  the  sensory  powers  is  different  from  that  of 
the  motor  powers.  Sensations  are  created  by  the  direct 
influence  of  natural  forces  on  the  organism.  From  the  vibra¬ 
tions  of  ether  we  get  sensations  of  light;  from  those  of  the 
air  we  get  sounds.  We  can  taste  only  that  which  has  been 
dissolved  in  water,  and  smell  only  that  which  has  become 
gaseous.  We  learn  of  the  coarse  aggregates  in  which  the 
forces  and  elements  of  nature  are  united  only  by  inferences. 
They  are  not  the  elementary  forms  of  sensorial  knowledge. 
The  motor  reactions,  however,  do  not  depend  upon  these 
elements  isolated  and  refined,  as  they  must  be,  to  become 
objects  of  perception,  but  to  the  aggregates  into  which  they 
are  united.  Motor  reactions  are  rather  excited  by  rocks, 
fields,  food,  houses,  animals  and  similar  aggregates,  animate 
and  inanimate,  of  which  the  world  is  made  up.  The  sure¬ 
footed  animal  must  step  from  rock  to  rock.  Animals  or 
men  find  good  fields  and  select  the  proper  food;  friends  must 
be  aided  and  enemies  destroyed  or  avoided. 

The  sensory  powers  thus  depend  on  universal  forces  and 
elements  or  those  so  abundant  that  they  rarely  become  con¬ 
ditions  of  survival.  The  motor  powers,  however,  are  stimu¬ 
lated  by  the  presence  of  the  limiting  aggregates — those 
complex  sources  of  pleasure  that  are  scarce  or  those  evils 
that  are  superabundant.  All  motor  activity  tends  to  remove, 
modify  or  create  these  limiting  aggregates.  By  changing 
them  or  decomposing  them  into  their  elements  pleasure  is 
increased  or  pain  removed.  To  their  peculiarities  every 
motor  reaction  is  due  and  upon  them  all  motor  activity  is 
exerted.  There  is  thus  an  environment  of  elements  and  an 
environment  of  limiting  aggregates.  The  elements  and 
natural  forces  excite  sensations.  The  limiting  aggregates 
create  the  motor  reactions.  Each  environment  has  its  laws 
and  relations  which  control  the  psychic  phenomena  created 
by  it.  Motor  activity  and  sensory  activity  should  therefore 
be  independent  in  their  growth  because  normally  they  de¬ 
pend  on  different  conditions.  The  sensory  powers,  however, 

[438] 


The  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  7 

have  been  checked  in  their  development  by  the  fact  that 
the  limiting  requisites  have  not  been  among  the  elements 
and  forces  of  which  the  world  is  made  up,  but  among  the 
aggregates  into  which  these  elements  are  combined.  Rarely 
or  never  are  light,  heat,  water,  air  and  other  forces  and  ele¬ 
ments  the  conditions  of  survival.  They  are  usually  present 
in  superabundance.  The  determining  conditions  are  certain 
aggregates  such  as  soils,  rocks,  mineral  deposits,  rivers, 
seas,  peculiar  plants,  animals  and  combinations  of  moisture 
and  heat.  Sensory  phenomena  cannot  acquire  an  importance 
unless  they  indicate  some  limiting  aggregate  and  are  joined 
with  some  motor  reaction  which  affects  an  adjustment.  The 
mental  units  formed  by  contact  with  these  aggregates  are 
complex,  partly  motor  and  partly  sensory.  The  social  con¬ 
cepts  belong  to  this  class.  They  are  not  the  outcome  of 
mere  contact  with  the  forces  and  elements  of  nature,  but 
are  due  to  the  necessities  and  relations  of  the  limiting  aggre¬ 
gates.  Sociology  has  nothing  to  do  with  sensory  or  motor 
phenomena  as  such,  nor  with  any  isolated  development  of 
either  sensory  or  motor  distinctions.  Psychic  phenomena 
become  social  only  when  motor  reactions  of  some  kind  ac¬ 
company  sensory  perceptions.  The  sensory  ideas  stimulated 
by  external  conditions  must,  to  become  social  phenomena 
produce  feelings  of  pleasure  or  pain,  of  fear  or  love,  of  desire 
or  antipathy,  of  attraction  or  repulsion.  The  social  unit  is 
an  aggregate  of  these  two  elements  and  the  form  of  the 
social  phenomena  depends  on  the  way  they  are  compounded. 
Every  social  element  is  thus  partly  sensory  and  partly  motor. 

Such  a  study  is  no  more  a  part  of  psychology  than  the 
study  of  the  limiting  aggregates  is  a  part  of  physics.  It  is 
true  that  these  aggregates  are  made  up  of  atoms  controlled 
by  physical  laws,  but  the  interest  of  the  sociologist  is  not  in 
the  atoms  nor  in  the  chemical  and  geological  laws  by  which 
they  are  arranged,  but  in  the  complex  result.  A  plant  grows 
because  of  certain  combinations  of  physical  and  chemical 
elements  in  certain  soils  and  the  growth  of  the  right  plant 

[439] 


Annans  of  the  American  Academy. 


depends  on  still  more  special  combinations.  There  is  just 
as  much  physics,  chemistry  and  geology  in  a  poor  soil  as  in 
a  good  one.  So  also  the  psychic  phenomena  of  an  unsocial 
man  does  not  differ  from  that  of  the  social  man.  The  psy¬ 
chologist  would  find  the  same  elements  and  ultimate  princi¬ 
ples  in  both  men.  The  difference  between  them  lies  in  the 
peculiar  ways  in  which  the  ultimate  sensations  are  aggre¬ 
gated  or  in  the  type  of  reaction  which  takes  place  when 
certain  sensory  impressions  are  present.  A  psychologist 
could  if  he  chose  examine  these  peculiar  groups  of  impres¬ 
sions  and  the  accompanying  reactions  just  as  a  geologist 
could  examine  a  cultivated  field,  but  if  either  of  them  did 
this,  they  would  waste  their  energies  on  poor  material  unless 
their  primary  interest  was  social  or  economic. 

Only  one  class  of  ideas  can  be  called  social,  those  whose 
perception  starts  motor  reactions.  In  pure  sensorial  knowl¬ 
edge,  all  ideas  and  distinctions  are  of  equal  importance.  It 
is  like  the  classification  of  plants  on  the  Linnsean  system,  in 
which  unimportant  plants  get  the  same  attention  as  the  more 
important,  and  the  differences  by  which  the  varieties  and 
species  are  distinguished  are,  usually,  of  a  trivial  nature. 
Only  the  important  sensorial  distinctions  become  a  part  of 
the  race  knowledge  by  which  men  are  kept  in  touch  with 
the  essentials  of  their  environment.  Such  knowledge  is 
connected  more  closely  with  the  motor  powers  than  with  the 
pure  sensorial  ideas.  Its  essentials  thus  receive  more  em¬ 
phasis,  and  are  so  adjusted  as  to  become  the  starting  points 
of  motor  reactions. 

The  art  of  riding  a  bicycle  illustrates  the  type  of  motor  ad- 
justments  upon  which  the  growth  of  society  depends.  When 
a  man  walks,  the  sense  of  falling  starts  motor  reactions 
which  restore  the  equilibrium.  In  riding  a  bicycle  these 
motor  reactions  are  weakened  or  lost,  and  in  their  place  new 
motor  reactions  are  developed  through  which  the  wheel  is 
turned.  The  equilibrium  is  restored  by  a  motion  of  the 
arms  instead  of  a  motion  of  the  body.  This  change  of 


The  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  9 

instinct  does  not,  however,  make  a  rider  of  a  bicycle 
physiologically  superior  to  a  walker.  On  the  contrary  a 
physiologist  might  decide  that  the  habitual  cyclist  was 
physiologically  inferior  to  a  walker. 

Social  changes  are  of  this  kind.  They  imply  different  mo¬ 
tor  reactions,  but  uot  those  of  a  higher  kind.  New  objects 
become  limiting  requisites  and  the  perception  of  them  creates 
motor  reactions  which  harmonize  with  the  conditions  set  by 
these  requisites.  The  non-social  man  must  be  able  readily 
to  distinguish  differences  in  objects  because  they  are  his 
best  means  of  detecting  enemies  and  of  avoiding  pain.  His 
motor  reactions  are  started  mainly  by  the  feeling  of  fear 
which  the  perception  of  these  differences  excites.  To 
the  social  man,  similarities  are  more  important  than  differ¬ 
ences.  Plis  prominent  motor  reactions  are  caused  by  the 
recognition  of  similarities,  because  they  indicate  the  presence 
of  the  agreeable,  the  pursuit  of  which  is  his  main  object. 
The  attention  of  the  one  man  is  concentrated  upon  the  disa¬ 
greeable,  that  of  the  other  upon  the  agreeable.  The  differ¬ 
ences  between  the  two  men  are  due  to  differences  in  limiting 
aggregates  by  which  they  are  surrounded,  and  not  to  differ¬ 
ences  in  their  psychic  experiences. 

Motor  reactions  caused  by  pleasure  are  not  different  in 
kind  from  those  caused  by  pain.  In  either  case  the  first 
contrast  is  between  the  agreeable  and  the  disagreeable, 
between  objects  causing  pain  and  those  giving  pleasure. 
This  contrast  creates  for  men  their  concept  of  self.  The  self 
is  not  a  mere  sensory  impression  with  an  unvarying  content. 
It  includes  all  those  feelings  whose  perception  produces  no 
motor  reactions.  The  non-self  is  created  by  motor  reactions 
which  eject  from  the  self  all  ideas  associated  with  the  dis¬ 
agreeable.  From  the  first  the  notion  of  the  self  is  confounded 
with  the  agreeable.  We  contrast  ourselves  with  the  sources 
of  pain  and  identify  ourselves  with  the  sources  of  pleasure. 
Pleasure  extends  the  feeling  of  identity;  pain  contracts  it. 
In  states  of  pleasure  we  perceive  agreements  and  harmonies; 


IO 


Annaes  of  the  American  Academy. 


in  states  of  pain  differences  and  discords  attract  the  attention. 
The  feeling  of  identity  expands  and  contracts  with  changes 
in  the  conditions  which  determine  the  extent  of  the  agreeable 
and  the  disagreeable. 

In  advanced  beings  there  is  a  narrower  or  analytic  self  and 
a  broader  or  synthetic  self.  When  pleased,  beings  expand 
their  personality  so  as  to  include  all  that  is  pleasurable, 
while  in  pain  they  contract  it  so  as  to  exclude  all  causes  of 
pain.  The  self  of  man  thus  depends  upon  his  moods  and 
these  in  turn  upon  the  environment.  This  expansion  and 
contraction  of  the  self  is  also  much  greater  in  a  pleasure 
economy  than  in  a  pain  economy.  In  the  latter  the  self  can¬ 
not  be  extended  beyond  a  limited  group  of  similar  objects 
because  so  many  of  them  have  pain  associations.  Nor  can 
it  be  contracted  so  as  to  exclude  the  bodily  organism;  the 
identity  of  the  self  and  its  organism  is  a  necessity  to  beings 
so  situated  that  their  first  thought  must  always  be  of  the 
organism.  The  synthetic  self  might  however  be  so  expanded 
as  to  include  the  whole  universe.  Many  tendencies  in 
this  direction  show  themselves  as  soon  as  the  thought  of  a 
pure  pleasure  economy  is  acquired.  It  is  only  the  realities 
of  a  world  of  pain  that  check  their  growth.  In  a  pleasure 
economy  the  organic  self  does  not  demand  first  attention  and 
its  parts  may  be  isolated  from  the  self.  This  tendency  is 
strengthened  by  the  fact  that  the  evils  of  a  pleasure  economy 
are  largely  due  to  the  weakness  or  over  development  of  bodily 
organs.  $uch  men  must  learn  to  distinguish  between  the 
flesh  and  the  spirit  and  in  this  way  the  analytic  self  becomes 
an  abstract  concept  with  no  sensory  qualities. 

This  thought  of  a  variable  self  may  perhaps  be  made 
clearer  by  representing  the  scope  of  the  possible  variation  in 
the  feeling  of  identity  as  a  plane  with  two  extremities.  At 
one  extremity  the  self  is  contracted  so  as  to  be  purely  abstract; 
at  the  other  it  is  so  expanded  as  to  include  every  thing  within 
itself.  The  self  identifies  itself  with  the  universe.  In  a  given 
environment  the  plane  of  identity  is  much  more  contracted. 

[442] 


The  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology,  ii 


Its  synthetic  extremity  would  be  the  point  of  greatest 
expansion  in  the  feeling  of  identity  of  which  the  agreeable 
elements  of  the  environment  will  admit;  its  analytic  extremity 
is  at  the  point  of  greatest  contraction  in  the  feeling  of  identity 
consistent  with  the  being’s  welfare.  In  such  a  society  there 
would  be  an  equilibrium  of  identity  somewhere  between  these 
two  extremities  towards  which  the  feeling  of  identity  in  its 
members  would  tend.  Those  whose  feelings  of  identity  cor¬ 
respond  to  this  equilibrium  would  be  normal;  all  others 
would  be  abnormal  because  they  include  too  much  or  too 
little  in  their  concept  of  self.  Individuals  are  sceptics  if 
their  concept  of  self  is  abnormally  small;  they  are  mystics 
if  this  concept  is  abnormally  large.  The  mystic  cannot  see 
how  the  sceptic  can  contract  his  personality  so  much  and  the 
sceptic  is  equally  at  loss  to  know  how  the  mystic  can  include 
so  much  in  his  personality.  There  is  thus  a  gulf  between 
them  which  reasoning  alone  cannot  bridge.  Changes  in  the 
environment  move  the  equilibrium  of  identity  nearer  to  one 
extremity  or  the  other  thus  making  new  classes  of  men  normal 
and  abnormal.  The  sceptics  or  the  mystics  of  one  age  may 
seem  to  have  the  opposite  qualities  to  people  of  another  age 
merely  because  the  equilibrium  of  identity  has  changed. 
The  normal  self  is  relative  to  the  conditions  of  existence. 

Social  reasoning  depends  on  the  content  given  to  the  self. 
Only  as  the  feeling  of  identity  is  expanded  can  the  organism, 
the  material  world,  society  and  the  universe  become  real  to 
men.  Should  their  attitude  become  strictly  sceptical  all  these 
would  become  unreal.  Trains  of  sensorial  ideas  alone  would 
remain.  It  is  the  synthetic  self  that  is  the  basis  of  society. 
To  the  analytic  self  individualism  is  the  only  logical  system. 
It  regards  the  social  forces  as  unreal.  The  synthetic  self  is 
the  active  self;  the  analytic  self  is  due  to  our  passive  states. 
We  are  therefore  synthetic  in  activity  and  analytic  in  passive 
enjoyments.  Our  interests  in  activity  are  more  extensive 
than  in  the  enjoyment  of  the  reactions  due  to  the  contact 
with  external  objects.  Enjoyment  being  thus  more 

[443] 


12 


Annals  of  the  American  Academy. 


individual  than  activity  the  equilibrium  of  identity  even  in 
the  normal  man  moves  toward  the  one  extremity  or  the  other 
as  he  increases  or  decreases  his  activity.  In  his  active  states 
he  becomes  more  synthetic  and  by  identifying  himself  with 
more  objects  becomes  more  social.  To  become  social  thus 
means  an  expansion  of  the  feeling  of  identity  and  not  an 
extension  of  the  consciousness  of  kind.  The  one  means  an 
enlargement  of  motor  activity  and  reactions  and  hence 
social  solidarity,  the  other  means  merely  an  increase  in 
sensory  impressions  which  need  give  rise  to  no  social 
phenomena. 

The  emphasis  which  Professor  Giddings  gives  the  latter 
concept  is  well  deserved,  but  it  is  not  the  original  and  ele¬ 
mentary  fact  upon  which  society  is  based.  Consciousness  of 
kind  is  a  variety  of  the  class  of  likenesses,  and  likeness  depends 
upon  the  recognition  of  a  common  element  in  a  complex 
aggregate.  In  two  objects  certain  elements  among  many 
are  seen  to  be  alike.  This  attitude  of  mind,  however,  by 
which  the  complex  of  objects  is  first  recognized,  and  then 
the  points  of  agreement,  is  characteristic  only  of  rational 
men  in  advanced  societies.  The  primitive  man  sees  only  a 
few  qualities  in  each  object  and  he  identifies  them  if  they 
have  points  of  agreement.  Red  objects  are  to  him  not  alike; 
they  are  identical.  All  reds  are  red.  He  does  not  have  the 
power  to  recognize  a  complex  aggregate  of  qualities.  If 
nothing  else,  the  inability  to  count  would  prevent  this.  Ob¬ 
jects  are  known  by  some  one  quality  for  which  there  is  an 
interest  in  the  same  way  that  they  are  recognized  by  children. 
To  the  child  a  shining  plate  is  not  like  the  moon;  it  is  the 
moon.  To  the  primitive  man  also  objects  are  identical 
whose  dominant  qualities  are  the  same. 

The  kinds  of  the  primitive  man  therefore  are  not  the 
organic  classes  which  rational  men  recognize;  nor  are  they 
due  to  common  blood  and  ancestry.  Those  things  are  of  a 
kind  that  have  a  prominent  element  in  common.  Differences 
in  which  there  is  no  interest  do  not  come  clearly  enough 

[444] 


The  Reeation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  13 

into  consciousness  to  prevent  the  rise  of  the  feeling  of  identity. 
The  primitive  man  puts  himself  in  a  class  with  a  hawk,  a 
wolf,  or  any  object  in  which  he  sees  some  quality  common 
to  it  and  to  him.  The  shadow,  the  image  in  water,  the 
dreamed-of  spirit  are  identified  with  the  self  for  similar 
reasons.  The  self  is  in  all  objects  that  are  similar  and 
agreeable.  Any  injury  done  to  them  is  an  injury  to  him 
and  any  power  over  them  extends  also  to  him.  Classes 
based  on  heredity  and  ancestry  come  much  later  when  an 
analytic  attitude  is  acquired.  Until  it  is  known  that  sexual 
intercourse  is  the  cause  of  child  bearing,  ties  of  blood  cannot 
be  recognized.  Descent  from  an  animal  or  plant  seems  as 
natural  as  from  a  human  being.  The  primitive  man  was 
more  apt  to  see  a  resemblance  between  himself  and  a  wolf 
or  bear  than  between  himself  and  his  offspring. 

We  can  understand  this  state  of  mind  only  by  recognizing 
the  differences  between  ourselves  and  the  primitive  man. 
We  classify  objects  and  beings  by  the  sensory  impressions 
their  presence  creates.  Objects  are  known  by  their  length, 
weight,  color,  shape  and  other  physical  qualities.  They  are 
in  essence  so  much  material  and  are  made  by  the  blending 
of  certain  sensory  elements.  The  primitive  man  recognized 
neither  objects  nor  beings  in  this  way.  He  conceived  of 
every  thing  as  living  and  classified  it  according  to  its  move¬ 
ments  and  activities.  Those  objects  were  of  a  kind  whose 
acts  were  alike.  If  a  man  put  himself  in  the  same  class 
with  a  hawk,  a  bear  or  a  fish  it  was  because  he  recognized 
a  similarity  between  his  actions  and  those  of  the  animal. 
His  sensory  powers  were  not  well  enough  developed  to  classify 
by  sensory  distinctions  nor  had  they  an  importance  to  him  that 
demanded  such  a  classification.  His  thought  was  concen¬ 
trated  on  the  activities  of  surrounding  objects  and  naturally 
his  classifications  were  determined  by  the  necessities  of  his 
situation. 

Consciousness  of  kind,  however,  depends  on  the  sensory 
impressions  which  beings  make.  It  is  a  recognition  that 

[445] 


i4  Annals  of  the  American  Academy. 

men  have  the  same  feelings,  ideas  and  characters.  A  man  is 
a  man  because  he  lives,  thinks  and  feels  and  not  because  of 
his  activities  or  occupation.  The  recognition  of  kind 
through  activities  and  occupation  is  a  mark  of  the  unsocial 
man.  The  fellow  feeling  between  bakers,  builders,  farmers 
and  members  of  other  trades  produces  clans  and  factions  which 
do  not  indicate  the  true  likenesses  and  furthermore  are  ob¬ 
stacles  to  the  growth  of  a  society.  Such  classifications  and 
contrasts  must  disappear  before  a  true  consciousness  of  kind 
emerges.  It  is  a  product  of  the  sensory  development  of  men 
and  has  appeared  only  in  recent  times.  To  me  it  is  an  im¬ 
portant  contribution  to  sociology  because  it  is  the  antithesis 
of  the  concepts  and  ideas  of  primitive  men.  It  gets  its  force 
and  clearness  because  it  sweeps  away  all  those  narrowing 
concepts  which  depend  upon  affinities  generated  by  common 
activities,  occupations  or  ties  of  blood.  We  need  a  term 
that  connotes  none  of  these  and  has  no  associations  that 
bring  up  historical  relations  or  primitive  conditions.  Con¬ 
sciousness  of  kind  should  express  the  broadest  relations  that 
unify  the  race.  But  it  cannot  be  used  in  this  way  and  at  the 
same  time  be  made  the  basis  of  primitive  societies  and  the 
cause  of  the  first  bonds  which  held  men  together. 

If  we  would  be  true  to  history  we  must  seek  the  first  social 
forces  in  the  conditions  of  the  environment  in  early  ages. 
When  men  began  to  live  in  social  groups  the  bonds  holding 
them  together  were  external.  The  primitive  man,  it  must  be 
kept  in  mind,  was  in  a  pain  economy.  He  was  powerless  be¬ 
fore  objective  conditions  and  helpless  in  the  presence  of  ene¬ 
mies.  In  the  open  world  he  had  to  struggle  and  to  fight  like 
other  animals  and  be  dominated  by  their  motives.  His  only 
relief  was  in  some  hidden  nook  into  which  he  could  escape 
from  his  enemies.  Even  the  animals  had  their  lairs  in  which 
they  were  free  to  follow  other  inclinations  than  those  dominant 
in  the  outside  world.  Here  the  beginnings  of  a  pleasure  econ¬ 
omy  were  made,  and  about  it  a  group  of  associations  were 
formed  that  made  society.  The  word  home  now  conveys  the 

[446] 


The  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  15 

ideas  that  the  early  lair,  cave  or  hidden  nook  made  possible. 
Home  and  kindred  terms  are  environment  ideas.  They  call 
up  a  place,  a  local  habitat  free  from  the  evils  of  the  outside 
world.  The  early  man  tolerates  another  man  not  because  of 
any  recognized  similarity,  but  because  the  latter  is  associated 
with  some  place  and  bears  a  mark  that  calls  it  up.  The 
bond  is  in  objective  space,  in  local  conditions,  and  not  in  any 
subjective  idea.  Animals  check  their  hostility  and  recognize 
a  friend  not  because  of  any  purely  organic  odor  or  similarity, 
but  from  the  odors  of  the  lair,  place  odors  which  cling  to 
them  because  of  their  contact  with  its  objects.  Wash  them 
thoroughly  and  they  become  strangers.  He  is  an  enemy 
who  has  another  place  odor. 

For  these  reasons  place  and  pleasure  are  inseparably  asso¬ 
ciated  even  in  the  animal  world.  The  primitive  man,  there¬ 
fore,  starts  with  instincts  which  make  him  friendly  to  any 
one  that  bears  the  marks  or  arouses  any  thoughts  of  his 
home,  his  place  of  refuge.  Primitive  kinship  is  based  on 
ties  of  place  and  not  of  blood.  Those  are  friends  who  have 
the  same  place  of  refuge  from  which  all  pain  activities  are 
excluded.  Habits,  movements  or  marks  acquired  in  such 
places  were  the  original  means  of  identification.  They 
brought  up  pictures  of  a  common  home  and  checked  those 
antagonisms  which  otherwise  would  be  supreme.  A  group 
of  such  individuals  would,  however,  form  but  an  economic 
aggregate,  among  whom  there  would  be  no  bond  but  their 
temporary  interests.  A  true  society  must  have  some  perma¬ 
nent  hold  on  its  members,  some  means  through  wdiich  the 
common  interest  can  assert  itself  and  check  the  self-assertive 
tendencies  among  its  members.  There  must  also  be  some 
form  of  control  through  which  the  few  can  compel  the  many 
to  accede  to  their  wishes.  Social  control  is  limited  by  the 
utility  of  the  society  to  the  individual,  and  before  it  can  be 
exerted  efficiently  there  must  be  some  important  pleasure  or 
pleasures  from  which  the  leaders  of  the  society  can  exclude 
refractory  individuals. 


[447] 


16  Annans  of  the  American  Academy. 

Of  this  fact,  the  social  control  exercised  through  fire  is  a 
good  example.  In  primitive  times  isolated  individuals 
could  not  preserve  fire  and  very  few  knew  how  to  create 
it.  The  formation  of  permanent  groups  being  a  neces¬ 
sity  the  tenders  of  the  fire  became  a  special  class,  ruling 
the  group  and  fixing  its  customs.  The  home  now  had  an 
objective  reality  in  the  altar  on  which  the  fire  was  pre¬ 
served,  and  to  move  it  was  a  difficult  process.  Attachment 
to  home  was  thus  increased,  and  the  fire  became  sacred 
because  it  was  the  objective  bond  of  social  unity.  This 
sacredness  was  extended  to  those  who  tended  it  and  to  all 
who  were  near  it.  The  altar  and  the  home  were  places  of 
refuge  in  or  around  which  no  acts  of  violence  could  be 
committed.  Special  fire  marks  became  totem  signs,  carrying 
with  them  the  sacredness  of  the  home  and  altar.  That  the 
fire  and  the  altar  were  at  least  early  bonds  creating  perma¬ 
nent  societies  is  shown  by  the  persistence  of  these  ideas  in 
all  religious  and  family  life.  Within  historical  times  the 
perpetual  fires  were  kept  burning,  guarded  by  a  special  class. 
In  religious  services  the  altar  and  burning  odors  still  persist. 
The  Roman  family  had  its  altar,  and  even  in  modern  times 
the  hearth  has  a  sanctity.  If  fire-worship  was  not  the  first 
religion  it  certainly  dates  as  far  back  as  any. 

Thus  we  see  that  the  home,  the  family  and  society  are 
environment  ideas.  They  are  due  to  the  place  relations, 
which  the  early  types  of  a  pleasure  economy  created,  and  are 
changed  and  developed  with  the  changes  it  has  undergone. 
To  these  common  pleasures  the  different  forms  of  control  are 
due.  Men  subordinate  themselves  to  external  conditions  or 
to  other  men,  so  that  they  can  participate  more  fully  in  the 
enjoyments  of  a  pleasure  economy.  Impulses  are  thus  gen¬ 
erated,  which  expand  the  feeling  of  identity,  and  thus  bind 
the  individual  to  all  the  objects  and  persons  in  his  pleasure 
world.  He  acts  with  them  and  through  them  as  naturally 
as  though  their  dictates  originated  within  himself.  The 
earliest  type  of  control  is  objective.  The  feeling  of  identity 

[448] 


The  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  17 

is  so  extended  that  outer  objects  are  included  in  it.  The 
self  is  made  to  include  all  pleasurable  objects,  and  the  non¬ 
self  is  co-extensive  with  painful  objects.  Both  groups  of 
objects  are  personified,  and  men  feel  that  their  welfare  de¬ 
pends  upon  them.  These  objects  thus  exert  a  control  over 
men  and  cause  them  to  modify  their  activities  so  as  to  con¬ 
form  to  the  conditions  which  their  relations  to  these  objects 
create.  This  state  of  mind  causes  the  fetish  worship  of  the 
early  races. 

Social  control  comes  later,  and  cannot  be  made  effective 
until  certain  group  or  home  pleasures  have  become  requisites 
for  survival,  and  the  resulting  societies  are  enough  differ¬ 
entiated  to  place  these  pleasures  under  the  control  of  indi¬ 
viduals.  The  relation  of  ruler  and  subject  is  developed  and 
feelings  arise  which  will  make  each  class  identify  itself  and 
its  interests  with  the  other  class.  A  feeling  of  partial  iden¬ 
tity  results.  The  ruling  class  is  necessary  to'the  happiness 
of  its  subjects,  and  at  the  same  time  it  appropriates  so  many 
sources  of  happiness  that  its  interests  are  opposed  to  those 
of  its  subjects.  Where  group  interests  are  involved  the 
feeling  of  identity  is  so  extended  that  ruler  and  subject  feel 
themselves  to  be  one.  In  matters  of  wealth,  however,  where 
their  attitude  is  analytic  and  their  identity  is  severed, 
the  temptations  and  dissipations  of  a  pleasure  world  affect 
the  ruling  class,  and  make  them  so  selfish  that  they  cease  to 
identify  themselves  with  their  subjects.  In  time  the  same 
causes  narrow  the  feeling  of  identity  of  the  subjects,  so  that 
it  includes  only  the  members  of  their  own  class  and  then 
social  control  in  an  objective  form  is  an  ineffectual  means  of 
promoting  social  welfare,  or  even  of  perserving  society. 

Social  control  becomes  diffused  with  the  progress  of  society. 
The  more  objective  and  centralized  it  is,  the  more  coercive 
is  its  power.  Each  of  the  older  institutions  in  its  beginning 
was  a  requisite  for  survival,  and  those  who  exercised  control 
through  it  were  absolute  in  power,  and  could  thus  mould 
society  and  determine  the  instincts  and  impulses  of  its 

[449] 


1 8  Annals  of  the  American  Academy. 

members.  This  power,  however,  is  lost  when  new  requisites 
for  survival  arise  and  the  old  means  of  control  become  more 
common.  The  early  priest  through  the  sacred  fire,  the  altar 
and  the  church  exercised  an  absolute  power  over  society.  But 
each  new  form  of  control  has  reduced  this  power,  until  now 
the  clergyman  has  little  to  distinguish  him  from  the  layman. 
The  forms  remain,  but  the  power  is  gone.  The  early  king 
in  turn  was  equally  absolute,  but  this  power  is  so  much  lost 
that  the  English  kings  now  have  little  but  the  name  that 
resembles  their  predecessors.  The  soldier  has  in  a  like  man¬ 
ner  had  his  day,  and  now  drops  to  the  level  of  other  citizens. 
The  control  exercised  through  wealth  has  a  like  history.  No 
form  of  wealth  was  so  powerful  as  landed  property  in 
early  times.  It  shaped  society  and  determined  who  should 
survive,  and  what  should  be  his  qualities  and  sentiments. 
Capital  in  the  form  of  food  is  a  less  effective  means  of  social 
control  than  in  land.  It  dominates  the  workman  less  than 
the  landowner  did  his  serf.  Fixed  capital  in  buildings  and 
machinery  is  still  less  powerful.  The  workman  is  now  much 
less  under  the  influence  of  the  large  capitalist  who  furnishes 
him  tools  and  a  working  place,  than  he  formerly  was  under 
the  influence  of  the  small  employers  who  gave  him  food  and 
shelter.  Each  new  form  of  wealth  is  less  easily  controlled  by 
a  class  or  by  a  firmly  united  group,  and  it  is  more  difficult  for 
this  class  or  group  to  keep  the  wealth  in  its  hands  for  any 
length  of  time.  Land  as  property  is  more  stable  and  en¬ 
during  than  capital.  Fixed  capital  in  machinery  and  build¬ 
ings  is  subject  to  more  risks  than  supplies  of  food.  Stocks 
and  bonds  in  great  corporations  are  even  less  secure  and  less 
likely  to  remain  in  the  same  hands  for  a  long  time. 

The  more  objective  forms  of  social  control  are  in  a  pain 
economy.  They  become  less  stable  and  extensive  with  each 
transition  to  a  pleasure  economy,  in  the  end  must  be  dis¬ 
placed  by  a  diffused  subjective  control  through  which  each 
individual  checks  the  inclinations  of  other  individuals  to 
subordinate  society  to  their  interests.  This  diffused  control 

[450] 


The  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  19 


is  the  ideal  of  a  democratic  society,  and  would  in  a  pure 
pleasure  economy  displace,  or  at  least  transform  and  disguise, 
other  forms  of  control.  There  would  still  be  the  church  and 
priest,  but  they  would  not  stand  between  the  individual  and 
his  God.  The  ruler  and  soldier  would  exist,  but  without  a 
will  of  their  own.  Wealth  and  culture  would  be  as  power¬ 
ful  as  ever,  but  every  one  would  participate  in  them  and 
share  in  the  control  they  exert.  There  would  still  be  a  no¬ 
bility,  but  every  one  would  feel  the  stimulus  which  family 
and  heredity  give. 

It  is  only  in  cases  of  diffused  control  that  a  feeling  of  the 
consciousness  of  kind  displaces  the  feeling  of  identity  upon 
which  earlier  societies  are  based.  Objective  social  control 
cannot  be  exercised  except  when  the  subject,  in  a  measure 
at  least,  identifies  himself  with  his  ruler.  He  magnifies  the 
points  of  similarity  and  neglects  the  differences  between  him¬ 
self  and  others.  Only  in  democratic  societies  do  men  think 
of  others  as  having  points  of  similarity  and  yet  differing  in 
many  particulars.  Primitive  people  cannot  endure  people  like 
themselves.  They  demand  that  every  one  with  whom  they 
come  in  contact  shall  be  identical  with  themselves.  He  is  a 
friend  who  has  the  same  faith,  habits  and  activities.  A  sin¬ 
gle  conscious  contrast  makes  him  a  foe. 

Although  it  is  customary  to  speak  of  the  common  quali¬ 
ties  of  men,  it  should  not  be  forgotten  that  these  qualities 
are  abstract  concepts.  They  are  the  products  of  an  advanced 
civilization,  and  demand  for  their  visualization  a  more  an¬ 
alytic  attitude  than  the  primitive  man  possessed.  It  has  taken 
a  long  education  for  men  to  separate  that  which  is  accidental 
or  peculiar  to  individuals  from  those  race  characteristics 
which  all  men  possess.  Without  this  distinction  upon  which 
the  thought  of  a  species  is  based,  men  cannot  think  of  others 
as  like  themselves.  There  is  either  a  feeling  of  identity  or 
of  hostility. 

The  common  qualities  in  men  only  become  vivid  after 
repeated  transitions  from  environment  to  environment.  Each 

[451] 


20 


Annals  of  the  American  Academy. 


transition  brings  out  new  requisites  for  survival,  separates 
the  temporary  from  the  permanent  and  concentrates  the 
attention  upon  those  features  which  are  essential  to  the  new 
conditions.  The  ideas  created  by  the  new  conditions  are  not 
thought  of  as  new  and  acquired,  but  are  projected  backward 
into  the  past  and  thought  of  as  though  they  were  the  ancient 
possessions  of  the  race.  A  race  thinks  of  itself  as  always  hav¬ 
ing  existed  in  its  present  environment,  and  hence  ideas  really 
new  are  assumed  to  be  old  and  a  fabulous  history  is  con¬ 
structed  to  account  for  their  origin.  In  an  unconscious  way 
each  race  constructs  a  history  which  conforms  in  a  measure  to 
the  order  of  events  which  would  have  taken  place  if  its  whole 
development  had  been  in  the  present  environment.  A  supe¬ 
rior  sanctity  is  thus  given  to  the  principles  and  rules  of  con¬ 
duct  which  present  conditions  demand. 

This  tendency  is  emphasized  by  the  gradual  transition 
from  a  pain  to  a  pleasure  economy.  The  race  assumes  that 
in  the  distant  past  it  had  a  golden  age  in  which  the  advanta¬ 
ges  of  a  pleasure  economy  were  realized,  and  from  which  the 
ideas  and  rules  of  conduct  necessary  in  the  new  conditions 
are  supposed  to  be  derived.  A  natural  state  of  man  is 
merely  a  visualization  of  men’s  concepts  of  a  pleasure  econ¬ 
omy.  It  varies  with  each  stage  in  the  development  of  a  race 
because  the  new  conditions  demand  new  principles  and  ideas. 
A  natural  right  is  a  rule  of  action  or  a  safeguard  which 
would  have  developed  naturally  and  consciously  if  the  race 
had  always  been  in  a  pleasure  economy.  In  a  pain  economy 
men  have  no  natural  rights.  There  is  merely  the  rule  of 
force.  In  escaping  from  such  a  society  men  picture  a  pleasure 
economy  and  draw  from  it  the  rules  and  principles  by  which 
they  are  governed  in  their  new  conditions.  Had  the  devel¬ 
opment  of  men  taken  place  in  a  pleasure  economy,  govern¬ 
ment  might  have  been  the  result  of  a  contract  and  each 
natural  right  might  have  been  acquired  in  a  conscious  way 
when  the  race  advanced  to  a  point  that  made  its  possession 
vital  to  future  progress.  The  necessities  of  a  pain  economy 

[452] 


The  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  21 


did  not  permit  progress  to  be  normal,  and  hence  the  rights  of 
men  are  based  on  a  fictitious  history  created  after  the  need  of 
the  rights  is  felt. 

Liberty  and  equality,  for  example,  were  not  among  the 
concepts  of  primitive  men.  They  were  acquired  only  at  a 
late  stage  of  progress  after  a  partial  transition  had  been 
made  to  a  pleasure  economy.  Their  basis  lay  in  the  condi¬ 
tions  of  the  present  environment  and  not  in  the  history  of 
the  race.  A  logical  development  of  these  ideas  out  of  pres¬ 
ent  conditions  does  not  satisfy  men.  They  prefer  to  visual¬ 
ize  and  idealize  the  principles  vital  to  present  prosperity,  and 
to  do  this  they  picture  the  past  in  a  way  that  does  not  con¬ 
form  to  reality.  If  the  race  had  developed  normally  on  the 
logical  basis  upon  which  the  principles  of  government  and  of 
social  activity  rest,  it  would  coincide  with  the  historical  basis 
upon  which  men  prefer  to  base  them.  The  historical  order 
in  which  ideas  and  principles  arose  would  be  the  same  as  the 
logical  order  in  which  a  rational  being  would  develop  them. 
The  two  series  cannot  present  ideas  and  principles  in  the  same 
order  if  society,  beginning  in  a  pain  economy,  is  gradually 
transferred  into  a  pleasure  economy.  The  visualization  of 
ideas  which  takes  place  under  these  circumstances  is  true  to 
the  logical  order.  The  concept  of  a  golden  age  or  of  a  natu¬ 
ral  state  gives  men  a  logical  basis  for  action,  and  aids  them 
to  develop  principles  suited  to  present  conditions,  but  it  forces 
them  to  be  false  to  history. 

Men  cannot  visualize  an  idea  without  constructing  a  pic¬ 
ture  of  a  concrete  condition  in  which  this  idea  has  a  prom¬ 
inent  place.  When  an  ideal  environment  is  once  made,  it 
is  so  much  more  vivid  than  the  one  in  which  history  shows 
the  race  to  have  been,  that  the  former  displaces  the  latter,  or, 
at  least,  is  so  blended  with  it  that  its  features  are  much  more 
prominent.  Through  this  process  of  visualization,  men  re¬ 
construct  history  and  make  it  subserve  their  present  needs. 
It  is  seen  to  the  best  advantage  in  periods  of  transition, 
because  in  them  new  types  of  men  come  to  the  front  and 

[453] 


22 


Annads  of  the  American  Academy. 


acquire  a  prominence  which  they  could  not  have  if  progress 
were  normal  and  in  a  single  environment.  We  are  apt  to 
think  of  a  race  as  developing  by  steady  accretions.  Each 
age  would  then  preserve  the  leading  elements  in  the  national 
character  and  add  to  them  some  characteristic  helpful  in  the 
new  conditions.  Progress  of  this  kind  is  normal  and  in 
such  a  society  some  one  type  of  men  continue  in  a  leading 
place.  A  marked  period  of  transition,  however,  destroys  the 
superiority  of  the  dominant  type.  Some  of  the  character¬ 
istics  of  the  race  are  no  longer  of  use,  or  at  least  they 
lose  their  distinctive  superiority,  while  the  characteristics 
demanded  by  the  new  situation  may  be  more  developed  in 
a  type  of  men  who  were  at  a  disadvantage  under  the  old 
conditions.  Judged  from  the  standpoint  of  the  old  society, 
an  inferior  man  now  tends  to  survive.  Instead  of  a  regular 
progress,  society  reverts  to  a  more  primitive  type  and  then 
begins  to  move  along  a  new  track. 

There  is  also  a  degeneration  among  individuals  of  the 
dominant  type  in  the  old  society.  The  safeguards  against 
the  temptation  and  vice  of  the  new  society  are  not  sufficiently 
developed  in  them.  The  soldier,  for  example,  is  well  suited 
to  the  vicissitudes  and  hardships  of  a  campaign,  but  yields 
readily  to  the  temptations  of  peaceful  prosperity.  The  transi¬ 
tion  from  a  period  of  war  to  one  of  peace  is  marked  therefore 
by  a  degeneration  and  a  practical  extinction  of  the  type  of  men 
that  carried  the  nation  safely  through  the  earlier  epoch. 

If  the  new  type  of  men  is  compared  with  the  earlier 
type  at  its  best  period,  the  tendency  to  revert  can  be  easily 
measured.  The  dominant  class,  and  especially  its  leaders 
in  the  struggle  which  the  transition  brings  on,  are  men  of  a 
more  primitive  type  than  were  the  men  they  displaced. 
Compare,  for  example,  the  leaders  of  the  great  religious 
awakening  in  England  during  the  eighteenth  century. 
Value  the  services  of  Wesley  as  highly  as  we  may — yet  it 
must  be  admitted  that  he  is  a  man  of  a  much  more  primitive 
type  than  Butler,  the  leader  of  the  rational  movement. 

[454] 


The  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  23 

Wesley  has  little  understanding  of  natural  law;  he  believes  in 
witchcraft,  and  in  his  reforms  he  tries  to  restore  the  doctrines 
and  conditions  of  the  primitive  church  and  the  anthropo¬ 
morphic  concepts  which  prevailed  in  it.  Yet  he  succeeded 
in  transforming  the  religious  thought  of  his  age  because 
industrial  transition  displaced  through  degeneration  the 
dominant  class  of  the  earlier  period  and  left  the  nation  in 
the  possession  of  more  primitive  men  who  were  capable  of  a 
development  in  harmony  with  the  new  conditions.  Take 
again  the  leaders  in  the  French  revolution.  Rousseau  was 
a  man  of  a  more  primitive  type  than  the  leaders  of  the  pre¬ 
ceding  epoch  of  French  thought.  He  had  many  of  the 
characteristics  of  a  savage  and  his  concept  of  nature  belonged 
to  a  much  earlier  epoch.  The  other  leaders  in  the  same 
movement  had  similar  characteristics  and  they  could  not 
have  succeeded  but  for  the  fact  that  the  great  industrial 
changes  destroyed  the  superiority  of  the  dominant  class  of 
the  earlier  epoch  and  caused  them  to  degenerate.  Primitive 
men  and  primitive  concepts  could  thus  assert  themselves  and 
create  the  basis  and  motives  for  a  new  civilization. 

It  is,  however,  an  exaggeration  to  identify  the  leaders  in 
new  social  movements  with  primitive  men.  It  would  be 
better  to  call  their  ideas  primal  than  primitive.  Primal  ideas 
are  the  sources  not  of  meditation  and  analysis,  but  of  activ¬ 
ity.  No  sooner  are  they  perceived  than  motor  reactions 
begin,  resulting  in  some  action  or  motion.  These  ideas,  like 
those  of  primitive  men,  have  few  or  no  sensory  reactions 
bringing  up  series  of  associated  ideas.  They  differ  widely 
from  the  sensorial  ideas  that  revive  each  other  without  lead¬ 
ing  to  activity.  Ideas  usually  have  one  or  the  other  of  these 
kinds  of  associations  dominant.  Either  their  connections 
with  the  motor  reactions  are  strong  or  they  are  closely  asso¬ 
ciated  with  other  ideas  and  merely  excite  long  trains  of 
thought. 

The  difference  between  the  two  can  be  illustrated  by  the 
effect  of  the  word  ‘  ‘  attention  ”  on  a  soldier  and  on  a  school 

[455] 


24  AnnaIvS  of  the  American  Academy. 

boy.  The  word  to  the  soldier  starts  motor  reactions  creating 
certain  activities.  To  the  school  boy,  however,  the  word  is 
associated  not  with  activity,  but  with  reflection  and  analysis. 
He  expects  his  teacher  to  analyze  a  plant,  to  solve  a  problem 
or  to  perform  an  experiment.  He  has,  therefore,  a  series  of 
analytic  ideas  put  before  him  which  he  must  remember,  but 
with  which  no  activity  is  associated.  The  work  of  school 
boys  is  largely  confined  to  the  acquisition  of  sensorial  knowl¬ 
edge.  They  acquire  merely  a  series  of  associated  ideas  with¬ 
out  any  outlet  in  activity.  A  table  of  dates,  long  numerical 
calculations  and  languages  acquired  merely  for  discipline  are 
examples. 

The  analytic  type  of  mind  creates  a  multitude  of  such 
ideas.  Objects  are  divided  into  parts  and  redivided  without 
end.  A  great  number  of  ideas  are  formed  which  are  never 
excited,  except  as  parts  of  a  long  series  of  concepts.  They 
are  clear  and  definite,  but  their  presence  in  consciousness 
merely  arouses  other  ideas  of  the  same  series.  A  circle  of 
ideas  is  thus  formed  which  promote  discrimination,  meditation 
and  delay.  Men  whose  ideas  are  of  this  type  are  clear 
thinkers,  but  weak  in  action.  They  become  dominant  in 
advanced  societies,  and  it  is  among  them  that  degeneration 
takes  place  in  periods  of  transition.  Their  activities  do  not 
harmonize  with  their  knowledge.  They  lose  sight  of  the 
essentials  to  life  in  a  multitude  of  minor  distinctions.  In  the 
process  of  degeneration  these  circles  of  sensorial  ideas  are 
broken  up.  Many  of  them  are  lost  because  they  are  never 
aroused  except  as  parts  of  the  circle  of  ideas  to  which  they 
belong.  Those  that  remain  do  so  because  they  are  directly 
connected  with  the  sensations  coming  from  the  outer  world 
or  because  they  are  associated  with  motor  activities.  The 
circles  of  thought  become  shorter  and  the  motor  reactions 
direct  and  vivid.  The  ideas  are  those  of  advanced  men  and 
are  clear  and  definite,  because  they  are  the  products  of 
analytic  thought.  They  are,  however,  shorn  of  the  associa¬ 
tions  connecting  them  with  the  ideas  from  which  they  are 

[456] 


Thf  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  25 

derived  or  to  which  they  are  related.  Their  strong  associa¬ 
tions  are  now  with  motor  reactions,  and  their  perception 
leads  to  activity  and  not  to  the  analysis  of  their  content  or 
to  the  history  of  their  growth.  In  this  respect  they  are  like 
the  ideas  of  primitive  men,  and  the  men  who  perceive  them 
in  their  full  force  act  with  the  promptness  and  efficiency  of 
primitive  men.  Such  ideas  are  the  starting  points  in  men’s 
thinking,  but  not  the  first  ideas  they  held.  Primal  ideas  are 
thus  primitive  in  form,  but  their  content  is  like  those  of 
advanced  men.  Social  ideas  are  of  this  class.  They  have 
their  origin  in  complicated  sensorial  reactions  and  discrimi¬ 
nations,  but  when  once  formed  their  sensorial  associations 
are  weakened  or  lost.  They  become  independent  of  the 
circles  of  thought  by  which  they  were  created,  and  form  the 
connecting  link  between  sensations  coming  from  the  outer 
world  and  the  motor  reactions  which  adjust  men  to  it.  They 
have,  therefore,  the  simplicity,  directness  and  independence 
of  primitive  ideas  and  are  easily  mistaken  for  them.  The 
thought  of  equality  and  fraternity  appears  simple  and  primi¬ 
tive,  yet  they  are  based  on  analyses  which  only  advanced 
men  can  make.  Although  the  sacredness  of  life  and  the 
golden  rule  seem  to  have  great  age  they  are  concepts  foreign 
to  primitive  men,  and  arise  only  when  mental  analysis  has 
made  great  progress.  Nothing  seems  simpler  or  older  than 
the  thought  of  nature,  of  God,  or  of  heaven.  Yet  the  ideas 
associated  with  these  words  were  changed  many  times  before 
they  acquired  their  present  clearness  and  the  power  to  direct 
the  activities  of  men.  Such  ideas  have  gone  through  many 
periods  of  degeneration  and  reversion,  in  wThich  they  lost 
their  original  sensorial  connections  and  were  brought  into 
closer  touch  with  the  motor  powers. 

Men  with  such  ideas  are  synthetic  in  their  thought  and 
feel  more  keenly  the  harmony  between  themselves  and  other 
objects  and  beings.  The  concept  of  self  is  enlarged  because 
more  ideas  relate  to  objects  that  are  agreeable  and  hence 
capable  of  being  joined  to  the  self  and  identified  with  it. 

[457] 


26 


Annals  of  the  American  Academy. 


The  consciously  disagreeable  may  be  more  pronounced  but 
it  is  concentrated  in  fewer  objects.  The  mass  of  objects 
become  indifferent  or  so  universally  agreeable  that  in  their 
enjoyment  no  contrast  is  made  between  the  self  and  the  non¬ 
self.  The  world,  it  is  thought,  would  be  a  paradise  but  for  a 
few  prevailing  evils.  When  men  perceive  that  evil  lies  not 
in  the  nature  of  things  but  in  a  few  discordant  elements,  they 
identify  themselves  more  fully  with  society  and  the  universe. 
Men  who  believe  a  personal  devil  to  be  the  source  of  evil 
are  more  social  than  men  who  believe  that  natural  objects, 
being  impure  or  unclean,  are  the  cause  of  their  woes.  It  is 
better  to  believe  in  witches  than  to  attribute  the  evils  of  life  to 
the  inanimate  objects  with  which  men  come  in  contact.  So  also 
men  who  think  that  their  evils  are  due  to  oppression,  to  their 
rulers,  to  particular  measures  or  policies  have  a  larger 
personality  than  if  they  believed  mankind  to  be  depraved 
and  all  their  associates  to  have  evil  designs.  Such  men  do 
not  differentiate  themselves  so  sharply  from  the  persons  and 
objects  with  which  they  come  in  contact.  It  is  no  wonder 
that  when  they  become  leaders  in  great  .social  movements 
they  pervert  history.  Real  history  is  not  sharply  contrasted 
with  their  fancies.  The  lines  between  the  two  are  so  vague 
that  it  is  easy  and  natural  to  change  the  order  of  events  to 
suit  their  own  ends.  They  view  the  past  more  as  a  picture 
than  as  a  series  of  events.  By  such  men  the  historical  order 
of  events  is  converted  into  the  logical  order  and  through  their 
influence  men  picture  the  past  in  a  way  that  harmonizes  the 
two  possible  bases  upon  which  social  doctrines  and  institu¬ 
tions  can  rest. 

Professor  Giddings  encourages  this  transformation  when 
he  makes  the  consciousness  of  kind  a  member  of  the  logical 
series  of  ideas  and  at  the  same  time  gives  it  a  place  in  the 
actual  series  of  social  ideas  which  have  been  developed  in  the 
history  of  the  race.  It  cannot  from  the  circumstances  of  the 
case  be  the  first  member  of  both  series.  If  it  is  the  original 
subjective  datum  of  society  in  the  sense  of  being  the  first  in 

[458] 


The  Relation  of  Sociology  to  Psychology.  27 

the  historical  order,  it  cannot  be  the  elementary  datum  in 
the  sense  of  being  the  source  from  which  men  derive  their 
principles  and  institutions.  There  can  be  no  doubt  as  to 
where  it  really  belongs.  It  is  an  idea  of  late  origin  projected 
backward  into  an  ideal  past,  just  as  other  ideas  of  the  logical 
order  are.  The  consciousness  of  kind  is  not  the  cause  of 
society  but  is  the  product  of  social  evolution.  It  is  made 
the  basis  of  society  by  a  conscious  process  and  gets  its  age  in 
the  same  way  that  other  ideals  and  natural  rights  acquire 
their  alleged  antiquity.  With  a  different  emphasis  and  a 
more  vivid  setting  it  may  become  as  cogent  a  force  in  social 
progress  as  any  of  the  group  of  ideals  to  which  it  belongs. 
But  such  work  is  for  the  reformer  and  not  for  the  scholar. 
The  latter  should  isolate  the  elements  which  the  former 
strives  to  blend  and  visualize. 

If  this  analysis  of  social  phenomena  is  correct,  the  connec¬ 
tion  between  psychology  and  sociology  is  not  that  of  depen¬ 
dency.  Social  ideas  are  not  simple  psychic  elements,  but 
complexes  due  to  the  blending  of  certain  sensory  ideas  with 
motor  reactions.  The  sociologist  must  perceive  that  the 
feeling  of  identity  is  not  indecomposable  and  unvarying,  but 
is  capable  of  change,  and  corresponds  to  the  conditions  set  by 
the  environment.  There  is  a  social  self  to  be  contrasted  with 
a  non-social  self,  but  not  a  social  mind  to  be  contrasted  with 
the  individual  mind.  The  psychic  qualities  distinguishing 
the  social  from  the  unsocial,  lie  within  each  man  and  not 
in  any  higher  psychic  unity  which  their  relations  to  each 
other  create.  The  requisites  for  survival  which  succeeding 
environments  create  determine  the  direction  of  social  progress, 
but  the  peculiarities  of  each  epoch  are  due  to  the  kind  of 
social  control  which  its  requisites  make  possible.  Social 
control  is  exercised  through  objects  necessary  for  all  men 
and  yet  capable  of  monopolization.  The  more  objective 
these  requisites  are  and  the  more  they  are  under  the  con¬ 
trol  of  a  few  individuals,  the  more  does  society  seem  like  a 
social  mind.  This  concept  is  merely  the  personification  of 

[459] 


28  Annals  of  the  American  Academy. 

social  control.  When  social  control  is  objective  and  con¬ 
centrated,  such  a  personification  is  easily  made;  it  becomes 
increasingly  difficult,  however,  in  advanced  societies  in  which 
social  control  is  diffused.  There  is,  therefore,  no  good  reason 
for  calling  sociology  a  psychologic  science.  It  is  much  bet¬ 
ter  to  assert  its  independence  and  to  develop  its.  terms  and 
ideas  out  of  its  own  material.  In  this  way  progress  may  be 
slower,  but  it  will  be  surer  and  in  the  end  will  give  sociology 
a  place  in  the  hierarchy  of  the  sciences  equal  in  rank  with 
physics,  chemistry,  or  any  other  independent  science. 

Simon  N.  Patten. 


University  of  Pennsylvania. 


THE  AMERICAN  ACADEMY  OF  POLITICAL,  AND 
SOCIAL  SCIENCE. 


The  American  Academy  of  Political  and  Social  Science 
was  formed  in  Philadelphia,  December  14,  1889,  for  the  pur¬ 
pose  of  promoting  the  Political  and  Social  Sciences. 

While  it  does  not  exclude  any  portion  of  the  field  indi¬ 
cated  in  its  title,  yet  its  chief  object  is  the  development  of 
those  aspects  of  the  Political  and  Social  Sciences  which  are 
either  entirely  omitted  from  the  programmes  of  other 
societies,  or  which  do  not  at  present  receive  the  attention 
they  deserve. 

Among  such  subjects  may  be  mentioned :  Sociology, 
Comparative  Constitutional  and  Administrative  Law,  Phi¬ 
losophy  of  the  State,  sand  such  portions  of  the  field  of  Poli¬ 
tics,  including  Finance  and  Banking,  as  are  not  adequately 
cultivated  by  existing  organizations. 

A  special  effort  will  be  made  to  collect  and  publish  mate¬ 
rial  which  will  be  of  use  to  students,  and  which  does  not  now 
reach  the  public  in  any  systematic  way,  as,  for  example,  the 
texts  in  English  of  the  Constitutions  of  leading  foreign 
countries  ;  regular  accounts  of  current  instruction  in  Politi¬ 
cal  and  Social  topics  at  home  and  abroad ;  descriptive 
bibliographies,  discussions  of  Municipal  Government,  etc. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  Academy  thus  supplements  the 
efforts  of  existing  societies  of  similar  aims,  and  substantially 
strengthens  their  work  by  contributing  its  share  to  beget  a 
deeper  and  more  widespread  interest  in  the  general  subject 
of  Political  and  Social  Science. 

The  plan  of  the  Academy  includes  regular  scientific  meet¬ 
ings  for  the  presentation  of  papers  and  communications, 
establishment  of  a  library,  and  the  dissemination  of  knowl¬ 
edge  on  Political  and  Social  topics  through  its  publications 
and  by  such  other  means  as  may  seem  suitable. 

During  the  winter,  regular  scientific  meetings  have  been 
held  since  the  Academy  was  formed  at  which  the  papers 
submitted  have  been  read  and  discussed. 


To  carry  on  the  work  of  the  Academy  satisfactorily,  large 
funds  are  necessary.  The  income  of  the  Academy  at  present 
is  derived  from  the  Annual  Membership  Fee,  which  is  $5.00; 
the  Life  Membership  Fee,  which  is  $100;  and  from  the  con¬ 
tributions  of  those  who  may  be  willing  to  assist  in  its  work. 
It  is  desired  to  secure  the  establishment  of  prizes  and  fellow¬ 
ships. 

Anyone  may  become  a  member  on  being  approved  by  the 
Council  and  paying  the  Annual  or  Life  Membership  Fee. 
Members  are  entitled  to  receive  the  regular  publications  of 
the  Academy,  submit  papers  and  communications,  and  to 
attend  and  take  part  in  all  scientific  meetings.  Life  mem¬ 
bers  are  exempt  from  all  annual  fees. 

The  list  of  members  now  includes  the  names  of  nearly  all 
the  prominent  thinkers  and  writers  on  Political,  Economic 
and  Social  topics  in  the  United  States  and  Canada,  and  many 
in  Europe. 

The  co-operation  of  all  persons  interested  in  the  scientific 
investigation  of  Political  and  Social  affairs  is  earnestly  so¬ 
licited. 

The  proceedings  of  the  Academy  are  published  in  the 
form  of  a  periodical  called  the  Annans  of  the  American 
Academy  of  Poeiticae  and  Sociae  Science,  which, 
together  with  such  other  matter  as  may  be  published  for 
that  purpose,  is  sent  to  all  members  of  the  Academy  free  of 
charge.  A  copy  of  the  current  number  of  the  Ann aes  will 
be  sent  to  any  one  for  examination. 

Papers  and  communications  which  the  writers  wish  to 
submit  to  the  Academy  with  a  view  to  their  being  read  in  a 
Scientific  Session  and  subsequently  published  in  the  Pro¬ 
ceedings,  as  well  as  applications  for  membership,  should  be 
sent  to  the  following  address  : 

American  Academy  of  Political  and  Social  Science, 

STATION  B,  PHILADELPHIA,  PA. 

N.  B. — Fees  and  contributions  may  be  remitted  by  postal 
order  on  Philadelphia,  or  by  draft  on  New  York,  drawn  to 
the  order  of  the  Treasurer,  Mr.  Stuart  Wood,  400  Chestnut 
Street,  Philadelphia. 


The  following  papers,  which  are  of  interest  to 

Students  of  the  New  Political  Economy 

have  appeared  in  the  Annans  and  been  reprinted  in 

SEPARATE  EDITIONS  : 


LAW  OF  WAGES  AND  INTEREST.  By  Prof.  J.  B.  Clark, 
of  Smith  College.  Price,  35  cents. 

PROVINCE  OF  SOCIOLOGY.  By  PROF.  F.  H.  Giddings,  of 
Bryn  Mawr.  Price,  25  cents. 

HISTORICAL  vs.  DEDUCTIVE  POLITICAL  ECONOMY.  By 
Prof.  Dr.  E.  von  Boehm-Bawerk,  of  Vienna.  Price,  25  cents. 
THE  AUSTRIAN  ECONOMISTS.  By  Prof.  Boehm-Bawerk. 

Price,  25  cents. 

THEORY  OF  VALUE.  By  Prof.  Dr.  F.  von  WiESER,  of  Prague, 
Austria.  Price,  25  cents. 

PATTEN’S  DYNAMIC  ECONOMICS.  By  Prof.  J.  B.  Clark. 

Price,  15  cents. 

GEOMETRICAL  THEORY  OF  THE  DETERMINATION  OF 
PRICES.  By  Prof.  L£on  Walras,  of  Lausanne,  Switzerland. 

Price,  25  cents. 

EFFECTS  OF  THE  CONSUMPTION  OF  WEALTH  ON  DIS¬ 
TRIBUTION.  By  Prof.  Wm.  Smart,  of  Glasgow,  Scotland. 

Price,  35  cents. 

STANDARD  OF  DEFERRED  PAYMENTS.  By  PROF.  E.  A. 

ROSS,  of  Stanford  University.  Price,  15  cents. 

COST  AND  UTILITY.  By  Prof.  S.  N.  Patten,  of  the  University 
of  Pennsylvania.  Price,  25  cents, 

THEORY  OF  FINAL  UTILITY  IN  RELATION  TO  THE 
STANDARD  OF  DEFERRED  PAYMENTS.  By  Dr.  L.  S. 
MERRIAM,  of  Cornell.  Price,  25  cents. 

THE  SURPLUS  GAINS  OF  LABOR.  By  Prof.  J.  B.  Clark. 

Price,  15  cents. 

COST  AND  EXPENSE.  By  Prof.  S.  N.  Patten.  Price,  25  cents. 
INTEREST  AND  PROFITS.  By  Prof.  A.  T.  Hadley,  of  Yale. 

Price,  15  cents, 

AUSTRIAN  THEORY  OF  VALUE.  By  Prof.  S.  M.  Macvane, 
of  Harvard.  Price,  25  cents. 

SUBJECTIVE  AND  OBJECTIVE  VIEW  OF  DISTRIBUTION. 

By  Prof.  John  Hobson,  of  London.  Price,  25  cents. 

TOTAL  UTILITY  STANDARD  OF  DEFERRED  PAYMENTS. 
By  Prof.  E.  A.  Ross.  Price,  25  cents. 


American  Academy  of  Political  and  Social  Science, 

Station  B,  Philadelphia. 


L. 


3  0112  06 


797442 


The  Theory  of  Social  Forces, 

By  PROF.  SIMON  N.  PATTEN,  Ph.  D., 

Author  of 

“  The  Theory  of  Dynamic  Economics  ,”  “  The  Consumption  of  Wealth ,”  etc . 


151  Pages.  Octavo.  Bound  in  Paper. 
Price,  $1.00. 


It  is  a  study  of  the  various  steps  in  social  evolution,  and,  with 
the  present  interest  in  the  discussion  of  fundamental  problems  of 
social  organization  and  functions,  this  new  monograph  should  attract 
the  most  general  attention. 

Professor  Patten  approaches  the  problem  of  social  evolution  from 
a  fresh  and  original  point  of  view.  Heretofore  it  has  been  customary 
for  those  who  study  social  problems  from  the  biologic  side  to  take  for 
granted  the  general  truth  and  sufficiency  of  the  theory  of  evolution, 
without  seeking  to  inquire  just  how  and  why  the  evolutionary  process 
assumed  has  taken  place.  Dr.  Patten  lays  great  stress  on  the  influ¬ 
ence  that  the  social  environment  has  had  in  determining  the  direction 
of  such  evolution. 

Briefly  outlined,  Dr.  Patten’s  social  theories  rest  upon  the  assump¬ 
tion  that  the  progressive  development  of  organic  life  on  this  planet 
has  been  in  its  later  phases  the  result  of  the  development  of  a  more 
and  more  refined  mental  organism,  the  parts  of  which  have  been  in 
turn  the  “requisites  for  survival,”  as  the  organism  adapted  itself  to 
increasingly  complex  environments. 

The  monograph  is  divided  into  five  parts,  which  treat  respectively 
of  “The  Influence  of  the  Environment,”  “Race  Psychology,” 
“  Knowledge  and  Belief,”  “A  Social  Commonwealth,”  and  “Normal 
Progress.” 


American  Academy  of 
Political  and  Social  Science, 


STATION  B,  PHILADELPHIA,  U.  S.  A. 


